


Even as I’m Selling Out

by crookedneighbour



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Anal Sex, Artificial Intelligence, Bad Decisions, Bad Ending, Bathing/Washing, Creepy Fluff, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feeding, Feeding Kink, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Grooming, I Made Myself Cry, Implied Relationships, Loss of Control, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulative Quentin Beck, Manipulative Relationship, Masturbation, No Beta, Oral Sex, Rape Fantasy, Sex Tapes, Statutory Rape, Underage Drinking, Unreliable Narrator, Villain Quentin Beck, Voyeurism, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-01-27 04:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: It’s a beautiful night in Prague and Quentin is well on his way to getting everything he wants, EDITH and Peter Parker alike.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Edith, Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 39
Kudos: 280





	1. I Want It All

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve loved getting to know everyone’s different versions of Quentin. I might fuck around and do some sequels. The title is from “Selling Out” from the American Psycho musical by Duncan Sheik. Thanks to TheOnlyCeeCeeJ for beta edits.

Peter swirls his lemonade awkwardly. Quentin can tell what he’s thinking. It’s why he grew the beard. The kid made puppy dog eyes over a compliment from him already.

“Come on, kid. Have a drink on me. It’s legal here, and you’ve earned it,” Quentin suggests. That is what Tony would have suggested. Not that it was actually legal here, but that was easier than saying the bartender was a hologram.

He doesn’t need to do this. He should just take EDITH from the kid, and call it a day. But Tony Stark chose and groomed this kid, and he’s looking at Quentin like he’s the second coming. If he’s taking back everything Tony had, replacing the Avengers, why not have it all?

“...I...uh... I gotta get back to my class before anyone asks questions... I left MJ and— oh god MJ.... I left her at the opera and—-“

Peter’s talking a mile a minute. Quentin grabs the kid’s wrist, not hard, but enough to startle him. Peter’s lips do that funny quivering thing again, and a pained look crosses his face. It’s so hard not to laugh at how obvious it all is. Tony Stark really spent his time traipsing around with some hormonal doe-eyed teenager in spandex and didn’t notice how the kid was practically slack jawed on his knees already. Maybe he was just playing the long game though. Waiting for the kid’s 18th birthday to give him a very special surprise.

“Peter. If you wanna have a normal life with her, you’re gonna have to tell her some day,” Quentin continues. “Either that or share your life with someone—“

Quentin stops himself as if he’s said something awful. If the kid had eyes for Tony, he probably loves theatrics. Quentin pulls back and covers his mouth. This is more fun than he’d had in ages.

“I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re a good kid, and I wanna see you have what I couldn’t.”

The kid’s stressed, grieving, and thinking about a girl. His wires are already crossed. Put a drink in him and he could really put the nail in Iron Man’s legacy with Peter crying for it deep and hard in the men’s room. Give the kid what his sugar daddy, Stark, never did. Even with his advanced metabolism and whatever else he has going on.

“No... You’re right.... I can’t be with someone who doesn’t know. It’s not fair to her,” Peter sighs. He’s really sitting in this bar with his mask off talking about his classmates. The kid is an engineering genius, but it’s astounding his cover hasn’t been blown. When he’s nervous, he looks like he’s holding something in his mouth. Like he wants to spit out more words than he already is.

Quentin gestures at a bottle of limoncello. Practically the same thing the kid’s having anyway. Except for the powdered epimedium and the alcohol. It’s still surprising he hasn’t fallen into Tony’s worst habits.

“Just one. We can talk about this plan of yours and what you plan to do with EDITH after. Hero to hero, right?”

He gives Peter what starts as a pat on the shoulder then runs a little longer. He slips his arm around his waist even and goes for a second, affirmative squeeze. Peter’s face lights up. For how strong the kid is, he’s small, built wiry and hard muscled unlike the older and largely dead or missing Avengers. If he didn’t know how strong he was, he’d call him scrawny, but sleek comes to mind instead.

It‘s cruel to toy with the boy like this, maybe, but it‘s another way to ensure loyalty. This is what he has to do. What all of them have to do together. EDITH was always supposed to be his. She can film it for him. If he can’t earn the boy’s affection, blackmail works too. He deserves some fun anyway with how hard they’re working to trick Nick Fury, the most paranoid man on earth.

Peter bites his lip a moment but nods along tentatively taking the glass.

“There’s so much I want to ask you really... About the multiverse, about you, about what’s next....” Peter begins. He takes an awkward sip of the drink. The kid almost chokes when the kick comes, but he doesn’t.

Always with the multiverse nonsense. Quentin’s sick of bullshitting about it. He oscillates between pitying the kid and hating him. Something about how earnest and desperate for attention he is. He’d look cute bouncing in Quentin’s lap and thanking him for it, but just as cute with both his arms broken, begging for his life beneath a boot.

“Swallow. You got this,” Quentin jokes, wetting his lips. He surveys Peter for how the innuendo lands. The kid’s bright red in the face. Everything about him screams virgin with a complex about it.

“Gosh, those look really good on you,” Peter blurts out. He starts to nervously drum his fingers against the side of the small glass. “What if I gave you them? You even look like him!”

“Whoa, there. I thought we’re talking kissing plans... Not weight of the world stuff. You need a break,” Quentin reminds him.

Quentin can’t remember if Peter’s said her name out loud yet, or if he just knows the girl from the class roster.

“Yeah.... Kissing plans! With MJ...”

Quentin takes the cue to lean closer. Peter is a rapt audience. His smooth jaw clenches tight and that funny puffed up defensive look returns to his face, but his eyes are big and dart to the side before meeting Quentin’s gaze again. Should he finish across his thighs or give the kid a facial? It’d be stupid to do it raw.

“Beck....”

“Call me Quentin now,” he insists, voice a soft whisper. Quentin places a hand on Peter’s thigh beneath the bar.

Peter lets out a puff a breath and it sounds like he’s trying to hide a groan underneath it.

“What if I’m bad at it.... What if I need practice.....”

Poor thing is practically stammering.

“Are you trying to ask me to practice kissing you?” Quentin allows himself the laugh. He could fuck the kid right at the bar if he wants, but it’s worth maintaining the illusion. Mysterio is Peter’s whole world.

Quentin slides his hand further up Peter’s leg, starting to curl around his inner thigh.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? You’ve been through a lot just now. We both have. Could just be the adrenaline talking.”

Of course, as he says this, Quentin’s hand is brushing against Peter’s groin. Quentin acts like he doesn’t see Peter squirming into the touch.

“I’ve wanted to.... I’ve liked you since.... well you just looked so cool and I wanted to help you and then when your helmet came off and you looked like you do,” Peter explained.

“Finish your drink and meet me in the men’s room. Think about it first. If you decide you don’t want to, we’ll meet up sometime with Nick Fury and act like this never happened,” Quentin hummed, massaging Peter’s thigh.

The kid’s lips part and his tongue sticks out from between his lips briefly.

“Yes sir... I mean Mr. Be— Quentin!!”

Quentin stands up, EDITH still across his face. Peter’s already forgotten all about her. Tony Stark really gave the most advanced military tech in the world to a stuttering twink of a child. Incredible.

Janice raises an eyebrow as he walks by her, but with his back turned to Peter, he shoots a quick wink in response.

The men’s room appears well kept except for a few creaky doors for that little bit of rustic Czech charm. It’s not the worst place beneath the glamour, but the broken bottles and dirty mirrors trigger something in him. It’s the perfect stage for having his way with Stark’s favorite naïve virgin. He’d almost respect Tony more if he’d been a proper chickenhawk. The man wasted everything he was given while strutting and preening all the way.

The anticipation before a performance is part of the joy of creation. Quentin palms himself slowly from outside his costume. There’s a lot money can do, but it’s also distinct from the type of emotional power he has right now. He’s created an icon for his tender little fanboy to kneel at. It’ll be sweet to finally peel Peter out of the getup Fury supplied him with. He almost wishes Tony lived just so he could see the smarmy grin wiped from his face.

On the note of Tony, Quentin pauses to adjust his hair, making sure it’s slicked back just how Peter clearly likes. The boy awkwardly makes his way in as Quentin finishes. He’s very cute. Stupidly cute. His cheeks are bright red, and he’s obviously erect in his tight costume. Maybe next time, if there is one, he’ll lean into the whole adorable half-man half-child thing and take him for sweets somewhere. Watch his eager new fuck toy nibble on something then enjoy his own, very different, dessert.

“So... uh... I guess do I pretend you’re MJ or...?”

“You’re really something, kid,” Quentin says with another laugh. He keeps it paternal at first, then let’s some of the budding hunger into his voice for the next part. “Come here.”

He turns to face Peter and the kid’s eyes immediately drop to his bulge then linger there. Quentin closes the gap between them instead.

“We’ll pretend I’m you. Imagine the guy you have a crush on has just shown you the world. Given you a real night to remember,” Quentin hums. Like that one would be real hard for the kid to do.

He could make them look like anything he wanted now, too; make Peter into MJ and himself into Peter or maybe his dear Mr. Stark. It’s too soon for that, though. Maybe once he’s broken the kid in, he can turn the kid into Tony or fuck Stark senseless in front of the kid or his aunt or something like that, but it’s too soon.

He rests his hand on Peter’s taught chest.

“You sure you want me to do this. It’s not too late to back out. Anytime it feels weird, just tell me, ok?”

Peter nods.

“I don’t wanna kiss her like a kid.... Brad’s practically a college student.... And Fury always—-“ Peter’s face steels with resolve. “Alright.”

Quentin starts by just stroking Peter’s smooth chin with his free hand. The kid doesn’t even have peach fuzz yet. Peter leans into the touch, all the while staring up at him with wide brown eyes. Peter’s hands stiffly hang at his side until their lips meet.

Peter’s lips are chapped and he clings lightly to Quentin’s hips. It’s chaste at first, the boy keeping his mouth shut, but when Quentin tugs at his shirt, and presses his tongue gently against Peter’s lips, he gets the idea.

It’s clearly something he doesn’t have much practice with, but that’s part of the charm. As Quentin toys with pushing his tongue further, Peter whimpers and suddenly grabs him tighter. The bit of noise from Peter is enough to tease him from a semi to fully erect.

Just to make the kid really want it, Quentin pulls back and rubs Peter’s chest reassuringly.

“That’s basically it. Except the real MJ doesn’t have to worry about beard burn, right?”

Peter laughs a little at that, but his eyes dart down, then back up.

“What about...? You don’t think it’s weird we’re both......?” he asks sheepishly.

“Both what, Peter?” Quentin replies, as if they both aren’t rock hard and minutes from Peter getting giving Quentin exactly what he wants.

“You know...”

Peter’s bright pink and fidgeting again. Quentin slinks his arms over Peter’s shoulders casually, then looks down casually. He raises an eyebrow then looks back to Peter.

“That we’re both hard? Oh, that’s nothing to worry about. Just the body looking for some release after a long day. Nothing I can’t handle myself,” he continues.

Peter presses against him now and damn does it feel good. Quentin’s been too busy with the whole “take over the world pretending to be a super hero from another dimension” thing to bother with something as trivial as sex. Playing with people could be just as stimulating, if not more so, but this was the perfect blend of the two.

“What if I want to help you?” Peter asks, grinding clumsily against him. Quentin hopes the drones are getting this.

“You sure you mean that? I don’t kiss and tell, kid, but that’s a very different ballpark...”

Quentin tries to look pained. Like he’s some noble man of mystery weighing over his taboo desire.

“You’ve been so nice to me, Mr. Beck. You believed in me.... You saved the world.”

The formal title sends another heavy throb to Quentin’s cock. He won’t be correcting him anymore. Peter begins to sink downwards, his hands fumbling with Quentin’s pants. The kid is finally on his knees where he belongs, looking up at his hero and ready to do anything to make him happy.

He wants to say filthy things to Peter, but he can’t blow this, wants to tell the kid he’ll make a real whore of him by the end of the night.

“Have you ever done this?”

Peter shakes just head.

“Not even with....?”

Quentin acts like he’s nervous to bring the ghost in the room up. He already knows Peter hasn’t, but he wants to hear it from the boy’s lips. Quentin’s getting something Stark was too stupid or too nervous to take.

Peter shakes his head again then looks aside for a moment. Quentin places his hands in Peter’s hair. The kid’s teasingly close to his hard-on now, he ought to just shove himself down the kid’s throat ‘till he can feel the tight squeeze of his gag reflex. Tell him how he’ll never be daddy Stark’s boy toy, but his new mentor is happy to screw every hole ‘till he passes out.

“It’s ok, kid. I know it’s rough, but you would have made him real proud out there tonight,” Quentin coos, massaging Peter’s scalp.

“Thank you, sir.”

The kid finally starts to unbuckle him, nuzzling his bulge a bit as a warm up. When he gets to Quentin’s briefs he pauses. There’s a bit of a wet spot already but Peter doesn’t seem too intimidated by that.

“I’m not sure how to start....” he admits, looking up at Quentin with his signature puppy eyes.

He’d have to run the image of Stark’s lab later. The kid didn’t have much ass on him, but he’d still look cute as hell sobbing and bent over Tony’s workspace. 

“We’ve got all the time in the world. Just start here with a few kisses. Show me what a good boy you’re going to be.”

It’s the first bit of dirty talk Quentin really lets himself indulge in, but the words ‘good boy’ elicit a gasp from Peter. He knew the kid liked praise, but this was something else.

Peter places a slow, open-mouthed kiss at the tip of Quentin’s cock. Even through the fabric, the pressure feels good. They’re only going to have one first time, so it’s worth savoring.

“Now, just stroke it a little while you kiss there, then slide your hands down and cup me.”

Mysterio would be a little more shy than Quentin’s feeling, wouldn’t tell the kid to cup his balls before he starts slobbering away. It’s so hard to keep up the game with how big Peter makes him feel. He’s worked for Stark long enough to know how good having a weapon under control feels, the rush of knowing something deadly is all his to control.

Peter obeys without question.

“It shouldn’t feel so good, but it’s been so long... I shouldn’t be... We shouldn’t be, but.....”

Quentin really hams it up on this one, bit the kid only eats it up more.

“Please let me, Mr. Beck.”

Peter widens his mouth now and plays at sucking Quentin through his underwear. He gets a little bolder and begins to tug at Quentin’s briefs, his tongue briefly lapping at the tip of his erection.

“Oh god, kid. You’re real good at this. You shouldn’t be this good, you’re too young.”

Quentin mimics Peter’s habit of letting the words tumble out all at once and tugs his hair a little.

Peter pauses to give Quentin a reassuring smile.

“I’m old enough... if you can trust me out there... you can trust me in here. I promise... only thing I’m worried about is if someone comes in.”

Quentin laughs and ruffles Peter’s hair affectionately.

“I got that one covered with the whole intergalactic powers thing. Don’t worry about it.”

The only reason anyone would come in was if Quentin ordered a gangbang, but luckily for little Parker, he wants him all to himself.

Peter tugs Quentin’s briefs down and quietly studies his full length. He’s probably never seen a grown man before, even if he’s seen other guys his age in the locker rooms. Quentin knows he’s pretty average in that department, but the way Peter’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s hung like a horse.

“If this is too freaky for you, don’t worry about it, but before you’re really going for it, do you think you could get undressed?” Quentin asks, leaning his his hips subtly towards Peter.

“Are you sure no one will come in? How do you know?” Peter asks.

‘Because I’ll personally execute anyone on my team who cockblocks me right now,’ was, again, not an appropriate answer.

Quentin gives him all the paternal schmaltz he could muster. Tony had really done some work on this kid hadn’t he. He clearly already had daddy issues, but really, Tony?

“I promise, Peter. I’d never let anything bad happen to you... If you really have to know, anyone who tries to walk in will go to the women’s room instead,” he lies.

Peter’s nerdy streak activates.

“Oh my god, you can do that? Well I guess that makes sense if you can travel dimensions, moving someone a few feet is no big deal, but oh my god, that’s so cool.”

Peter starts peeling out of his clothes as he rambles. Not the striptease Quentin might have wanted, but very charming still.

Peter stumbles around as he gets undressed, like the inexperienced boy he is. The kid’s pale and smooth with hard flushed nipples and a harder brighter cock. He’s more toned than his build suggests, but it’s still a turn on how different their bodies are. The kid looks like one of those horny paintings of a young guy by the beach or herding sheep, or whatever turned on painters in the late 1800s.

Peter crawls back in front of him. It’s not fair how cute and trusting he is, and that Quentin can’t just split him open and raw him right away. In good time, though. In good time, he’ll have fucked every hole the kid has and then some. Just focus on the here and now, that’s what the bullshit anger management course Stark put him through said. The here and now is Tony’s hard bodied golden boy is about to suck him off in dirty bathroom, and cum with Quentin’s dick rammed down his throat.

“Start with just the tip and stroke yourself a little. You’ve been working hard, too. Let me know if you’re about to cum though, ok?”

Peter closes his mouth around Quentin’s head and the boy’s mouth is his own slice of heaven. Quentin closes his eyes reflexively and grunts.

“Oh that’s good, darling,” he sighs, catching himself before tacking on ‘that’s what daddy likes.’

Peter groans in return, starting to rub at his own erection. Quentin takes the liberty of adjusting the angle of Peter’s head and gives the boy’s mouth a playful thrust.

The kid’s tongue is lapping at the underside of his cock, and he can tell his new cockwarmer-in-training wants to take it deeper from the way he bobs his head. Maybe he’s selfish, Quentin knows he’s selfish, but he can’t really see the appeal of giving someone else oral unless he gets something out of it.

“Go ahead and take it deeper now. Just ease your way down to the bottom.”

Quentin toys with running a hologram of Stark just for his own amusement, watch the kid squirm as he realizes the old man’s seeing it all. Each inch Peter takes eggs Quentin a little closer to spilling.

“You’re a natural, kid, you know that? Just a little further so I can feel your throat. I know it’s hard, but you’re being such a good boy,” Quentin urges. Peter has picked up the pace of his masturbation to match and despite not climaxing yet, he’s already a bit of a sticky mess.

The flex of Peter’s throat around his cock is almost enough to make him cum, but he wants the kid to finish first.

“You’re so good that I want you to cum for me right now. Can you do that for me, Peter? You’ve been so good and strong for me, and I need to see you feel good.”

Peter whimpers softly in response, beginning to whine in time with his strokes as he follows Quentin’s request. Quentin holds him tight now and begins to fuck the kid’s face more towards the pace he really wants. Peter’s tearing up from gagging and a mix of pre-cum and saliva dribble from the corners of his mouth, and Quentin can’t deny the thought of the kid crying is a turn on.

When he comes, Peter’s practically wailing on his dick. The vibration feels good, but what’s even better is knowing the kid’s first time with someone else is him buck naked in a dive bar with an older man ramming the back of his throat.

Angel that he is, Peter doesn’t pull back once he’s made a mess of himself, cum splattered across his hands and lean stomach. Not that he could stop with how hard Quentin’s holding him.

“You looked so good for me. I bet your first time was real good, wasn’t it? You’re gonna swallow when I cum, right? My good little spider’s gonna swallow, right?”

Quentin’s growling at the kid now. He can’t help it, he’s too close and the pressure in his groin is too much. Peter gives him a soft ‘mmhmm’ in response, his arms hanging limp at his side.

It’s hard to not call the kid a whore as he comes. Real hard. He settles for snarling ‘good boy’ over and over till his hips slow and he draws his cock back from Peter’s mouth and tucks himself away.

He gives Peter an affectionate pat on the cheek and the kids arms curl around him in an awkward hug.

“I really liked that, Mr. Beck,” he sighs. “I hope you liked it too.”

“You were wonderful, kid. Really wonderful. I promise.”

It’s easier to maintain the illusion of Mysterio in his post-coital haze.

“We outta clean you up and get you back, right? I can’t stay the night, but I can get you showered and tucked in bed, ok?”

Gotta make the kid confused if he wants Quentin as his daddy or his father, if not a bit of both.

“Just hold me a moment? I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Alright, you big sap,” Quentin laughs and it’s Mysterio’s caring laugh coming from his lips. He wraps his arms around Peter and tugs the boy to his feet, supporting his weight.

He’ll go through any footage tonight and put together something to tide him over till he can really break the kid in.

“I don’t wanna get dressed,” Peter pouts. The long day is finally taking its toll. “Can you warp us back?”

“It’s just one at a time, and I don’t wanna leave you right now. I’ll get you back and I won’t disappear on you. Don’t worry,” Quentin explains. Pretty good for off the cuff.

“I’ll hold onto EDITH and we can figure out what to do with her tomorrow when you’ve got a clear head. It’s a big decision...”

Peter nuzzles happily into Quentin’s chest.

“I wanna see you save the world. You need her for that. I want everyone to see you like I do. She can help them do that,” Peter murmurs.

“You’re right about that one, kid, aren’t you?”

Peter Parker would give him the world, and Quentin’s happy to take it.


	2. The Next Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin brings Peter back to his hotel room and gets him to bed. Now that he has EDITH he can look through her databases for footage of Peter and Tony alike. He's still not sure what to do with the kid, but he knows a good angle when he sees one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added some tags! I should be commissioning some illustrations and posting the next chapter soon. I also wrote a Peter/Tony/Quentin threesome AU. Writing this chapter was hard because it's pretty plot based. Big thanks to TheOnlyCeeCeeJ for helping me edit chapter 1 & 2.

Quentin basically carries Peter back to his hotel. The kid's system is finally giving out after all the adrenaline and sex. He helps the kid suit up, taking the opportunity to run his hands over Peter's muscled body. Quentin gets his share of smiles and adoration from the team as the two of them leave with EDITH where she belongs.

Outside the bar, EDITH taps into the local rideshares faster than Deep Blue would win tic-tac-toe. It's only twenty bucks, but it's about the principle of the thing. Quentin's put more than enough time and money into the project thus far.

The two of them settle into the back of a cab, Peter leaning against Quentin's chest.

"Just let me know when it's time to get out... I just wanna be close to you," Peter hums, worming his way around so that Quentin's arm encircled him. Quentin sighs. This is what he gets for fucking a teenager. Which he feels a little bad about, but not bad enough to really regret.

"I don't mind if you doze a little," Quentin replies, tugging the two of them closer together. It's not a total lie. It's not so bad to hold the kid for warmth. Especially when he's quiet.

Peter's breath tickles against his neck, and the kid's hand lingers suggestively on Quentin's thigh. He can't stay the night, but in the very nice world where he could, Peter would probably wake up with morning wood. The cute little thing would be ready to hump the bed while Quentin watched with some coffee and room service. Peter would make quite the sidekick if he had the right temperament for it.

"You think you can sling your way up to your hotel window right now?" Quentin asks. "My stuff is a little too flashy..."

Peter nods and straightens up.

"Just a little longer, then I can take good care of you," Quentin continues, fully aware of the innuendo. Peter gives him a slow smile in return.

They hold each other tightly as Peter flings them from ledge to windowsill like it's second nature to him. He's strong, even worn out as he is.

The two of them crawl through the window and Peter takes a moment to lay flat on his back. Quentin laughs in relief.

"You ok, champ?"

He holds his arm out for Peter to grab.

"Yeah... I still can't believe we... That you really like me... like that."

Peter takes his hand.

"Don't blink, you might wake up," Quentin jokes. "Now I think a bath might be better. Standing doesn't seem to be your strength right now."

"Shut up. I still got us up here," Peter replies, play shoving Quentin.

"Alright, alright."

Peter strips down again, tossing his costume in a pile, as Quentin draws the bath and adds some of the complementary bubble bath soap to the warm water.

Peter climbs in unceremoniously, probably too tired to be shy at this point. He closes his eyes and leans back in the tub, letting out a long sigh. 

"Feels good," he mumbles. 

Quentin begins to strip himself out of the top half of his costume, unclasping his cape and carefully hanging Janice's hard work on the hooks atop the bathroom door. His armor is a little more complex to remove and he takes a moment to place it carefully outside the bathroom. Peter's eyes flutter open at the noise, and he's suddenly a bit more alert, his eyes panning over Quentin's bare chest.

"Mr. Beck...." 

He can see how different they are now. Peter's eyes flick downward again, as if following the dark hair of Quentin's chest and stomach, to his groin. Peter's tongue briefly darts outside his lips, then back into his mouth, and the kid proceeds to make that funny clenched yet puffed up expression he makes.

"You uh... You look really good..."

"Thanks, kid. You can ogle all you want, but just let me get you clean, ok?"

Quentin takes one of the hotel washcloths in hand and begins to lather it with the bubbles.

Playing the whole tender daddy Stark fantasy is getting a little tiring, but he can hold out a little longer. He likes watching Peter give him absolute control over his body. It makes him feel big, the way the kid is taking in every part of him, admiring his forearms, his chest, the way scruff grows all over his body. He starts by lifting one of Peter's legs and scrubbing the backside of his calf. Peter's leg flexes as Quentin rubs against the back side of his knee, and what starts as a laugh turns into a moan as Quentin is groping the back of the kid's thighs.

He could easily lift both of the kid's legs and finally pop that tight cherry he has waiting for Quentin, but it's not time. Peter's cock stirs back to hardness as Quentin continues to squeeze his way up and down the length of his thigh. 

"Please.... Please.... Let me...."

It's not clear precisely what the kid wants, but Quentin rolls out the best impression he's gotten from his time studying interviews and security footage.

"Not tonight, kiddo. Your old man's gotta get to bed," Quentin asserts. 

“Not fair,” Peter mumbles, his hips squirming. It certainly isn’t.

“How about I make it up to you and take you out for a late breakfast? Like a date.”

Peter’s too innocent to call him daddy yet, but it’s a very nice thought. Especially how his little spider would love eating from daddy’s hand is making the ache in his groin spread into the pit of his stomach and thighs. There’s so much they have to do together, still, and Quentin can barely keep himself from devouring and spitting out his new favorite toy.

“I’d like that, Mr. Beck,” Peter answers.

Quentin carefully begins scrubbing his way up Peter’s sides and ribs. Seeing Peter’s thighs spread is proving a little too tempting. He’s so turned on, he’s salivating thinking that if the kid’s mouth was that good, his tight ass is going to be even better. There’s a lot of weird theories online, like what if top heroes secreted pheromones and other horny nonsense. It feels like with Pete, it could be true though. Something about him, probably the puppy eyed virgin thing, makes Quentin want to just sink his teeth in and go to town.

It’s clear when he’s naked, it’s not just the squeeze of the costume making Peter look pert all over. Quentin indulges and runs a thumb over each of Peter’s nipples. He’s probably never been touched there, except while pinching himself with a pillow between his legs. He wants to keep teasing Peter so badly, but that’s not how his mentor should act.

“You’re too cute. I’m putting you to bed so you can think on everything. It’s not too late to act like it didn’t happen, ok?”

Peter pouts a little in response, but nods. “You're probably right. Are you sure you don't wanna get in at least?” Peter tries.

“Peter.”

Quentin lets his face soften a little, and trails his fingers down Peter's torso. He bites his lips thoughtfully and makes sure Peter sees him staring at the kid's hard on.

“As much as I would very much like to, I think we should sit on it first. I'll pick you up at 11:30 and we can have some breakfast, and figure out if what we just did was good for you.”

“You better not ghost me,” Peter grumbles.

“I won't. I promise. And whatever you decide is ok,” Quentin reassures him.

They sit together a little longer like that. Peter leans into the touches, humming along happily as Quentin dotes on him. Maybe being nice to him isn't the worst, when Peter's practically offering his virginity in exchange. He needs to get back, though. EDITH's data load should be the only other one he's shooting tonight.

“Let's get you dried off and tucked in.”

Peter rises out of the tub as Quentin drains the water. He's dripping head-to-toe and still looks shy a moment. Quentin wraps him in a towel and the kid has the bravery to place a soft kiss on one of Quentin's pecs before nuzzling him there.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs. “Thank you for saving everyone. You did it, this time. Me, Ned, MJ, everyone.

Peter pulls back then takes to using one of the other towels to dry off his hair and limbs. Quentin watches him wordlessly as the kid then sheds everything again and stumbles towards the bed. As Quentin suits himself back up, Peter crawls into bed and gives Quentin one last sidelong glance.

A few years ago, Quentin wouldn't have been able to resist. He's further along in his impulse control modules now, and seeing Peter completely naked in a hotel bed with his ass arched towards him is certainly testing his self-control. The kid probably doesn't even realize he's doing it, which is part of Peter's charm. It doesn't occur to him, or maybe he doesn't quite realize the full implications of it, that he's egging Quentin to go back on his word and fuck him senseless here and now. This is some choice footage for EDITH, isn't it?

“Good night, Peter,” Quentin asserts.

“You said you'd tuck me in,” Peter teases. “Get the blanket.”

He sounds a little more sure of himself now. Like he's confident in knowing Quentin wants him and won't drop him or go dying on him like the other men in his life.

“Alright, alright.”

Peter flips onto his side and Quentin adjusts the blankets around him.

“Comfortable?” he asks.

“Yeah....”

Quentin smooths the sheets once more, then leans in to kiss Peter on the forehead. He accents the gesture by ruffling the kid's hair. He can't help himself, Peter makes twisting the knife in so easy.

Peter smiles at Quentin.

“11:30 in the lobby. If Ned asks, say Fury's calling us,” Quentin reminds him. “EDITH, set an alarm on Parker's phone for 9:30am.”

“Good idea.”

Apparently, EDITH can do that. Give him access to Peter's phone. Useful. Interesting. Maybe the kid has nudes or engineering details. Either works.

“Good night. For real this time,” Quentin hums.

“Good night, Mr. Beck.”

Quentin leaves out the fire escape, closing the window behind him. What a remarkable night. What an easy target he's set for him, and what a good time he's going to have fucking Peter Parker senseless tomorrow after his council meeting. Takin Peter's virginity is a no brainer, even. He needs the kid scared or loyal. It'd be useful to break him in maybe, make him part of the team. William will be against it, of course.

Quentin gets himself another ride share.

"EDITH, darling?"

"Yes, Quentin?" she answers.

"Be a sweetheart and compile all footage of Peter Parker from 7:00pm tonight ‘till now. I'm going to go to bed when I get back, but have it for me by 8:30am tomorrow. Does that sound like something you can do?" Quentin orders. He knows she can, and the manipulation isn't necessary with an A.I., but he can't shut the behavior quite off either.

"That is well within my capabilities," EDITH replies with a happy tone. He'd originally designed her as fairly bland, but Tony liked to give his companions the artifice of personality. The narcissism that a machine would be happy to serve him...

"We'll speak in the morning. I'll be updating the team on what changes Stark has made since you and I last had some time together," Quentin continues. “I'll need specifics on that. And any of Peter Parker's internship footage you think might be interesting.”

“Define interesting, please,” EDITH returns. 10 minutes for a goddamn car, still.

“Discussions with Stark that go beyond the engineering. Any personal data. Him changing,” Quentin explains.

“Would you like to run a pre-training?” EDITH offers.

“Not now, dear. We'll practice tomorrow morning,” Quentin decides.

The team likely has had another round by now, which will escalate into a few more people getting truly plastered than they should have. Probably Victoria. Quentin suspects the whole ‘having his way with a teenager’ thing might give some of the more conservative team members pause, but the return of EDITH will smooth that over. Except for William, probably. What is one kid compared to killing a city? And what is any of that compared to actually running the world? Besides, if he can convert Peter, that's a huge asset to them.

"You have an alarm set for 7:30 am.”

"Perfect, EDITH. It's good to have you back."

He can understand the illusion Tony was trying to build with her a bit better now. Especially as a gift for Peter. That EDITH is another link between them, one with memory and fondness for Tony that Peter can relate to. But EDITH isn't either of theirs anymore. EDITH is his. Peter is his. He just has to play careful.


	3. A Dream I'm Selling You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin checks in with EDITH and begins to compile his "best of" Peter Parker, then takes Peter out on their brunch date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have not listened to the song this fic is named for and you've made it this far, I highly recommend it. Here's a pre-stage version with Benjamin Walker.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GUtLX_r0L94
> 
> I've also started getting commissions done after this. Jani Tombs did her last beta for a while on this chapter! Thank you for your service.
> 
> ALSO HERE IS AN ILLUSTRATION BY KEP!!!!
> 
> https://twitter.com/leechlordbolton/status/1235881075257282565?s=20

Quentin reviews the changes in EDITH with minimal annoyance from his team. As he expects, Victoria seems bent out of shape whenever he approaches her. Quentin's not exactly sure what she thinks they have, as nothing particularly noteworthy has happened between them past a few shared smiles. William, of course, asks what the plan for dealing with Parker is. Quentin tells the truth. Peter will either become his sidekick or Quentin will have enough emotional leverage to break the kid once and for all. Janice, bless her patience, only questions what he's wearing, and begins reviewing his options. The question really is which of Tony's outfits are they mimicking? Quentin proposes a black t-shirt, denim jeans, and charcoal jacket combo, which meets her approval. He's getting sick of grooming himself to look like Tony, but this is better than the armor.

"EDITH and I have to run some new pre-trainings, and test some hologram designs I've come up with," Quentin explains. "Leave the clothes outside the space for me."

"Don't you want the full team reviewing the new content?" William questions. (It's really only a matter of time till he shoots William.)

"EDITH and I mean to be alone, William," Quentin says with a brief grimace. Even with both a cold brew and his kale juice, he doesn't have the patience for William's meddling bullshit this morning.

Thankfully, everyone else has taken the clue and begun to filter out. Beck is soon alone with William, dressed in his motion capture suit and double-fisting beverages.

"You sure? I know things between us have been a little testy of late, and I don't want you to--"

"William. For the last time. I would like to be _alone_. I have footage of Parker _ I would like to review alone_. By myself. From last night," Quentin tries again, clenching and unclenching his fist for emphasis as he settles into the control panel seating.

"Oh."

The meaning clicks in place finally.

"If you want to be useful, go help Guterman review the new lore," Quentin sighs. William grins uncomfortably.

"Good idea."

Quentin settles into the swivel chair and idly look over the settings before addressing EDITH.

"EDITH, dearest, I'd like to review the footage of Peter and start your pre-training," Quentin hums, preemptively unzipping the front of the suit. He wore it just in case he’d be running some of the Mysterio footage on himself, but he's more concerned with how Peter looks.

"Given the parameters you have provided, I have over one hundred hours of footage, and your appointment with Peter is in 3 hours," EDITH replies.

"Oh, that's fine. Start with his internship hours. I've allocated 14 drones for you-- is that enough?"

One drone for each corner and side of a cube. That ought to be sufficient.

Peter will be a little younger here. Tony might be alive too. Parker won't be the grief struck tender thing Quentin's found himself increasingly entertained by. He can live with that though.

"For higher end resolution, more drones will be necessary, but for footage review, they're sufficient. Beginning feed."

The first image EDITH conjures is Peter sitting in Tony's workspace surrounded by papers and crying. An SAT review book is open in front of him, and he's dressed in jeans and a light t-shirt. The edges of the image are fuzzy, shimmering in and out of existence. The scene surprises him until Quentin thinks about it a moment. Peter is very intelligent, but standardized tests don't measure that. He probably took the test in earnest and fell for some trick in the problem wording, and is under a lot of stress. Poor thing isn't used to failing. It makes him feel bad for the kid. If they're both lucky Peter will agree to help Quentin in the long term.

"Cute. Kind of sad puppyish. Do you have audio?" Quentin asks, taking a sip of his kale juice.

Peter is sniffling now and talking to himself.

"Remember what Mr. Stark said...."

The hero worship starts to bore him. The tears really are precious though.

"Any other footage of him crying? Bad day at school, father's day, something like that?"

Quentin chews at his straw, thinking. He's going about this all wrong. He would like to see Peter cry more, but this isn’t what he feels like watching. Maybe he can make him cry on their date, then apologize and comfort Peter in his arms. Get Peter into his lap that way, already compromised and aching to be fussed over.

"Cancel that. What about him undressed?. Anything other than last night?"

EDITH switches to a scene of Peter changing out of one of his older suits in Tony's apartment. His pants lay around his ankles and his shirt is partially lifted, but he's a little too young to really get Quentin going. He's not as built as he is now, lacking the tight definition and hard angles Quentin craves.

"Pause it."

Peter is now mid lifting his shirt overhead, his stomach and chest visible. It's clear Peter hasn't developed much more body hair since then.

None of this is exciting him. It needs to be moving for him and Peter alike.

"Show me Peter in his hotel bed last night. Do you have enough data to manipulate a 3D model of him?"

"I can estimate additional angles based on the full body scans from earlier that evening. However, they are imperfect."

Quentin's point of view of Peter face down in bed returns to him. He doesn’t look real enough to touch, but it’s enough to stir his cock back to life. The curves of his back are a little more angular than they should be, but his hips and legs look fantastic. Quentin figures it’s based off of how effective the various 3D scans were.

"That's perfect, honey. Can you spread his legs for me a little?"

The image begins to clip as EDITH obeys, but the basic gist of the situation is there. There’s a few points where the folds of the blankets cut into Peter’s legs and patches of skin where the texture is clearly tiled. EDITH can’t yet angle the scene that much differently from his POV, but she gets the job done. The kid looks like an open invitation, legs parted and hips arched like he’s begging for Quentin’s cock.

Quentin switches to taking a sip from his cold brew then further unzips the suit. He ought not to ruin it, or make Janice deal with it, but if he really has to, he can just launder it himself.

“How’s your facial recognition these days, EDITH? Do you have the component recognition to make him cry a little here?”

Peter sobs softly now, and there’s a slight motion to his chest. Quentin can’t see his face well from this angle, but the audio is clear and believable. Quentin puts down his drinks and palms his groin through the suit. This was getting more to speed. He’d have to get enough footage with Peter today to complete the shot.

“Good work on the sound. Turn his face a little towards me. And have him say my name,” Quentin directs, slowly arching his hips into his own touch now.

Peter’s neck has a few errors– his skin doesn’t quite mesh right– but good heavens does EDITH get his face down. His eyes are red and puffy, and there’s a slight pout to his lips that makes Quentin want to get him on his knees all over again.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter croaks weakly.

“EDITH, honey, that’s great. You’re doing fantastic for me,” Quentin sighs, and he’s aware that there’s no need to talk to her like this, but she’s the closest thing to having Peter right now. He ought to blow a little steam off before seeing the kid. He can’t be sloppy today.

“Oh, and text William to make sure I have sufficient drone placement in my hotel room for video capture,” he adds. Quentin squeezes towards the base of his length.

“Of course.”

If the kid acts up later, he’ll have some explicit footage of their time together to show him. Maybe strap him down first, then make Peter watch himself getting fucked by Quentin from both ends. Was that too fantastical? Maybe jut enough.

The scene is a little disjointed as is. Peter’s model is frozen except for his crying face, EDITH unable to further render it the animations.

“Ok. Save this combination for later and let’s review the audio options. We can patch the visuals up after my appointment with him,” Quentin decides. He chews his lip thinking a moment, distracted from the eroticism of the moment.

“Mr. Beck,” comes Peter’s voice, this time shocked. A little demure. Believable for during sex, if it’s on the tender side- could be breathier.

“Good for during foreplay. As he becomes more heated he should be panting a little more. Maybe another crack in his voice. Save that one though.”

“Confirmed. I don’t have enough recent data for your request,” EDITH replies.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna have plenty for you to review tonight,” Quentin hums, studying the length of Peter’s back.

He should be a little worried, maybe. His mind is already starting to conflate how to talk to Peter with how to talk to EDITH. He’s not stupid. He’s done the work and the reading to know that’s how people get with AI, and that he’s not an exception. The redesign choices and the whole giving her a name thing isn’t helping. But he’s not really conversing with anyone beyond himself, and what a machine thinks he wants to hear.

“Arch his hips up a little more?”

Things start to break down around his legs where EDITH has had to take the most liberties, but the dimples on his lower back just above his ass look incredible. Quentin can’t wait to dig his thumbs in as he grabs the kid by the hips. Or can he be that rough with Peter, yet? No probably not. That’ll be a good day though. Once he has Peter broken-in a little, he can fuck the kid rough and deep.

“Show me him earlier in the evening. Undressed at the bar. Do you need the estimated time or coordinates?”

“Your query was sufficient,” EDITH replies.

Quentin studies the next scene she conjures. Peter is on his knees, down to his underwear. The low heat in Quentin’s stomach finally shifts from intellectual engagement into a more tangible, material state of arousal. What a pretty perfect mouth his little spider had. What an absolute delight it would be to ram the back of his tight throat again. He’s finally gone from sporting a semi to fully erect.

“Show me both of us now. I want a close up of his head bobbing, his mouth central to the shot.”

A close up of Peter’s lips and closed eyes sits before him now, dissolving around the edges of the hologram. He’s a little blurry based on the lack of drones, but even low resolution seeing Peter like this again is a turn on.

“Oh, just like that, honey,” Quentin groans, now reaching fully inside his suit to grip himself. He’s not sure which of them he’s addressing.

Peter’s cheeks are rounded with Quentin’s own length, and a mix of pre-cum and saliva dribbles from the corner of his mouth.

“EDITH, loop this for me and play it with the audio right now,” Quentin directs, starting to stroke himself properly.

Quentin begins to review his internal list of things he can’t call Peter aloud here. Best to get them out now, before he’s balls deep in the kid. Spider-Slut and cum dumpster both have a nice ring.

“You’re gonna be the perfect bit of ass for me today aren’t you, Peter?” he grunts. “A little bit of spoiling and you’ll be all over my cock, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Beck,” comes Peter’s voice, devoid of the lust it ought to have. Beck is thrown for a moment, but the dialogue only increases his arousal.

“EDITH, that you? Keep running his voice lines in response and send me a list of the file names. I’ll grade them for audio quality and dialogue response later.”

Right now she’s probably not capable of much more than Peter giving yes or no answers, unless Tony programed in an extensive cyber sex neural network Quentin doesn’t know about. He isn't sure what to enter as the dialogue base yet either. Sure what he’s doing with Peter is pornographic right now, but pornography isn’t the best source of conversation, nor does he want a porn star type persona for Peter. He’s better off just giving her his own scripts to work from rather than have her form live conversations.

“Could you run a couple files for me on your HUD? The footage of him on his stomach, results for the highest ranking pastry shops within 10 minutes of my hotel, as well as the menu in the restaurant there.”

“Of course.”

EDITH complies, and the wealth of information is a little dizzying at first. He’s read some critical theory regarding that the modern internet renders all information pornographic and frankly, it tracks. 

Peter, spread and waiting for him, is superimposed over his field of vision along with a scrollable selection of dessert shops, and the text of the restaurant menu. The photographs all have a glossy, Instagram oriented feel. Everything suggests consumption. Especially Peter.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter repeats, his voice softer this time. He sound fragile-- a little needy even. He imagines Peter whining like that as he straddles Quentin’s cock. 

“Good. Keep that one,” Quentin decides. “And text Janice to have a chocolate assortment from one of these in my room as well. And lube. No condoms.”

Peter won’t know any better. That’s one of the many perks of virgins. Quentin gives the dessert shops one last glance, debating the merits of Peter potentially eating a fruit tart from his hand. The glistening fruit and custard on Peter’s lips is, of course, a turn on, reminiscent of his cum streaked lips in the bathroom, but the possibility of crumbs in the bed seems high. Chocolates work.

Quentin closes out the pastry results, and minimizes the menu. He can consult it on the way there and check if there’s anything in particular he’ll enjoy watching Peter eat. 

Quentin can’t quite focus correctly like this.

“You know what, downsize the oral footage and just run the bed next to it, both on the holograms. Leave the HUD clear. Run both at half-speed so I can get a sense of the frame by frame,” Quentin reflects. He’s gotta stop fucking around and get off already. He can work on the director’s cut later, once his source material is a little stronger.

EDITH follows his commands. The two images blend together around the periphery of each. 

Quentin ups the pace of his strokes in response, thumbing the tip of his cock at the end of his strokes occasionally. He watches the slow swell of Peter’s cheeks as his mouth fills with Quentin’s cock, and scans the length of Peter’s backside, imagining giving the boy a few affectionate taps as he drives him into the mattress.

“Take it nice and deep for daddy, Peter,” Quentin grunts. “You wanna be a good little slut, don’t you?”

Quentin bites his lips as he continues, falling into a frantic rhythm.

“Can’t wait to fill my tight little spider.”

He’s close. Quentin wants to backhand the kid so bad-- slap him around a little and give him a facial to finish it off-- show his tight little virgin what it really takes to get him off.

There. That’s the idea. The slow horror on Peter’s face when he discovers what Quentin really wants with him, and the worse knowledge that he’s even more eager to give it. The kid’s just aching for it. Quentin knows what the little whore secretly wants.

Despite his earlier reservations, Quentin spills himself with the motion capture suit still on. As he slumps back in the chair the images of Peter still cycle before him.

“EDITH, pause the pre-training for now. I’ve got a date to keep.”

Quentin sighs and tries standing, his legs still a bit wobbly from his climax. He can clean the suit himself later. He needs to shower and get changed. His little spider is waiting.


	4. As If I Don't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Quentin finally go on their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing a spiderio 18+ fic exchange!! Join it!!!
> 
> https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSetdOS6CTXcAr3gUAhADcVZubat2SOI1Yunge7KxzDUiAEw_g/viewform?usp=sf_link
> 
> big thanks to fyreyantics for editing work on this one!

When Quentin showers, he has a process. Originally, he constructed this process to ground his sense of self, help with the anger and the sense of drifting. Now, the process grounds him for the roles he has to play, balancing his true desires with his presentation as a team leader as well as Mysterio. He works out followed by his morning juice. Normally, he doesn’t masturbate before showering, but exceptions happen. Hot water pours over him. He starts with a pore cleanser, then exfoliates using an apricot scrub from Clinique. His body wash is Doctor Brenner’s peppermint, a habit he fell into back in New York. He’s a little more sensitive than usual after his orgasm. The tingle makes him alert, ready. Next comes his hair. It allows him to tap into Peter’s subconscious. He uses Nioxin’s growth-stimulating products to keep it thick, starting by conditioning the tip of his hair, then applying shampoo at the base of his scalp. Today, he’ll lightly trim his beard for maintenance. He needs to be perfect. The last component is his moisturizer, custom-designed to mimic Tony’s cologne. It took some work, but the balance is perfect: sandalwood, leather, whiskey, and tobacco. The smell used to upset him even. It no longer does. He’s building something-- taking something too. There’s an idea of Mysterio-- an idea of truth-- an entity. Something illusory he can hide behind as he pulls the strings. This is all a part of it.

Quentin steps out of the shower and returns EDITH to his face. She’s fogged up a little and he carefully cleans her. He studies himself for a moment. He’s taller and younger than Tony was. He’s in good shape. It makes sense Peter desires him.

“EDITH, all the review work, and files I had you save. Start a name for the grouping, Protocol Engaged Training Executable Review,” he orders.

“PETER for short then?” she asks. She needs to confirm the shorthand, but it feels like she’s indulging him.

“Exactly.”

Janice has included his black dress shoes, briefs, belt, and socks that match his jacket. The shirt is more loose than fitted, but still suggests the shape of his chest and stomach. The tailoring on the jacket she’s done is impeccable. The jeans are snug, likely meant to give Parker a clear view of what he’s in store for. It’s really going to be a shame if he ever has to kill her.

He looks good. He’ll be impressed if Peter doesn’t beg him to come upstairs right in the lobby. The poor thing was basically asking for it last night. He really needed the jerk off session before this, huh? Maybe it’s the caffeine plus the shower, but he feels in control of himself- like he can play his cards right.

As he rides over to Peter’s hotel, he realizes he never helped the kid come up with a lie about today. Ostensibly, his class is doing something today. Peter’s smart and determined enough to make it work though. He checks his texts. Everything’s set up for him back in his hotel room.

Peter practically body checks Quentin the moment he gets out of the car. He’s clearly been waiting outside the hotel.

“Mr. Beck! I didn’t want anyone to see us meeting in the lobby and say anything to my teachers and I didn’t have your number or anything.....”

Quentin takes a step back, holding Peter by the shoulders. He’s dressed nicely, but not enough to draw suspicion, wearing pressed clean khakis and a plaid button-up. He gives Peter a brief squeeze while looking him over.

“Good thinking. You look great by the way,” Quentin replies.

Peter’s posture stiffens and his face turns red as Quentin lets go of him. Easy prey.

“My hotel is within walking distance,” Quentin offers. No one around seems to pay them much attention. “Help you build up an appetite?”

Peter nods.

“I’m actually pretty hungry. It’s a side effect I think,” Peter trails off, taking a brief look around. “I’d like to walk there though. Together.”

He lights up at the last word and tentatively places his hand in Quentin’s.

“Just keep your eyes peeled, alright?”

Quentin squeezes his hand in response and Peter gives him an affirmative thumbs up as they begin to walk.

“Some of my classmates actually think I’m a male escort,” Peter explains. Quentin laughs and tugs Peter closer.

“Are you? You don’t seem the type,” Quentin teases. Peter seems like a virgin— radiates it really.

Peter knocks their hands into Quentin’s side playfully.

“Yeah? Well, you don’t seem like a boomer,” Peter answers snidely.

“Did you just call me a boomer as an insult?”

Quentin squints and shakes his head slightly as he speaks.

“Silence, boomer,” Peter insists, adopting a robotic tone of voice.

Quentin knocks back at Peter’s ribs in retaliation as he rolls his eyes.

“EDITH, help I’m being bullied. Also, alert me if any of Peter Parker’s classmates enter a three-block radius,” Quentin orders.

“You can do that?” Peter asks. He’s clearly not learned from the drone strike incident.

“EDITH and I spent a little time getting to know each other before I came over,” Quentin replies.

Peter relaxes. He probably isn’t imagining Quentin masturbating to him crying. Meanwhile, EDITH has created a small overlay of his class’ whereabouts. MJ and Ned have stolen off to the gift shop while the class tours another museum.

“Regarding my assistance, would you like a series of one-liners aimed at Peter Parker Mr. Stark has left me?” EDITH asks. That sounds like it will make him distinctly angry.

“I think I’ll survive. Thank you, darling,” says Quentin.

Peter’s head quirks at the nickname, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s messy to call her that in front of Peter, even if the kid looks cute when he’s a little jealous.

“Old habit. From back then,” Quentin covers, pretty sure it’s not a convincing lie. Either way, Peter’s face softens in response and he gives Quentin’s hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Beck.”

Peter pauses.

“We can talk about something else,” Peter offers.

“Thanks, kid.”

Something else turns out to be his aunt and his internship. Based on her Facebook photos, May is hotter than he expected. Mainly, it’s the appeal of a really weird threesome, something to really fuck the kid up. He’s not turned on by the incest so much as Peter’s terror regarding it.

Quentin does his best to act like Tony’s new to him and his only grief with the bastard being dead is not being involved. The way Peter lights up about him makes his stomach turn. At least Tony is dead.

Meanwhile, the two of them move through the crowded streets with ease. Countless profiles and entry points flash before Quentin’s eyes as EDITH scans the crowd. Peter still occasionally looks over the crowd as they walk, but eventually presses closer to Quentin. The kid even has the balls to redirect Quentin’s hand so it’s placed around Peter’s shoulder.

Despite Peter’s strength, Quentin’s hands and forearms are notably large compared to Peter’s size. He could probably wrap both arms around the kid’s waist easily-- good for holding the kid tight while Peter rides his cock.

“Mr. Stark totally hit on her all the time, which makes sense ‘cause Pepper, but like Happy too? I don’t need to see that!”

Quentin rubs Peter’s shoulder slowly.

“I know she’s your aunt, but people need to move on after grief sometimes. She’s not replacing your uncle. She just has to learn to love again, and all that stuff,” Quentin offers, doing his best to mirror Peter’s diction. They’re getting close so it’s time to lay the charm on.

“I want her to be happy! II know she still misses Uncle Ben.”

Peter’s speech slows.

“I miss Uncle Ben still. I miss Mr. Stark too… I bet you miss your family still, don’t you, Mr. Beck?”

Peter looks up at him with wide honest eyes. He can’t get hard right now, but Peter’s making it very difficult with his whole trusting puppy dog face.

Quentin frowns a little and leans in towards Peter.

“Of course I do, but that doesn’t stop me from finding things that make me happy,” he explains. He looks Peter over slowly then returns to eye contact with Peter. “Things here in the now, things on this earth.”

Peter swallows, the bulge of his throat visible and inviting. He’s melting in Quentin’s arms, his lips parted and chin arched to prepare his mouth for Quentin’s. Quentin places the pointer finger of his free hand across Peter’s lower lip.

“Not here, Peter. Not yet. I really like you, I promise,” Quentin urges. Peter’s tongue comes dangerously close to his fingertip, but the kid straightens out instead. Quentin pulls back from their half-embrace.

“Oh right. Public place,” Peter replies. He’s clearly disappointed Quentin’s tongue isn’t halfway down his throat. All in due time, Peter.

“Exactly. And you need breakfast.”

Quentin leads Peter into the hotel. It’s comparable to Peter’s in luxury. The kid is still taken aback by the high ceilings and quality light fixtures. His idea of a good hotel is probably more like the midtown Hilton, despite living in the same city as the Standard.

The two of them get a table without much ado. No one seems to question their relationship.

The menu is as it was online, but Quentin plays at browsing through it as Peter ogles the item descriptions.

Their waiter is well dressed and refreshingly uninterested in giving his name and entire backstory as is the norm in America.

Quentin’s Czech is good enough to order himself a cappuccino. Which he needs after hearing the entire story from Peter of how Tony Stark saved the world.

“Are you ready to order?” Quentin asks Peter.

Peter’s order is cleaner than his, his accent a bit more practiced— ever the fast learner in matters of the mouth.

Quentin’s internal quip excites himself a decent amount. He is about to finally seduce Peter after all. Just a little bit longer, and Peter will be eating from his hand and split open on his dick.

“May I please have the cheesecake?”

Peter’s tone is incredibly formal, but it’s endearing. So is his apparent sweet tooth first thing in the morning.

The waiter leaves and the two of them are left to talk again.

“You didn’t get anything to eat?” Peter notes.

“I had to eat before my workout.”

It should go without saying he works out, but he wants Peter to know.

Peter frowns.

“You can have a bite of mine I’d you want,” he offers.

Quentin laughs and places a hand across the table so it rests near Peter’s own hands.

“Are you saying I can taste your cake?”

“Yes. Do you want some?” Peter reiterates. His innocence sends a jolt between Quentin’s legs. The kid’s sucked him off in a bathroom and still doesn’t see what Quentin really wants from him.

“Oh, Peter. It can be difficult to control myself sometimes ....”

That much is true. He really should have just taken Peter straight to his hotel room. Peter wants to kiss him, why not let him in the intimacy of Quentin’s room?

Quentin idly traces at Peter’s wrists with one finger. Peter finally catches on and looks back at Quentin as he turns a flattering shade of red. Quentin licks his lips slowly, just to make sure Peter understands.

“If I have a taste, I might want the whole slice,” he hums.

“...Mr. Beck,” Peter stammers. The tension between them is palpable, but it won’t do to whisk Peter away yet. He wants to savor deflowering the kid after all.

“I’m calling you a whole snack. The kids say that still, right?”

The levity catches Peter off guard and this time he slaps at Quentin’s hands.

“Oh my god, go call AARP,” Peter retorts.

“Sorry, I’ll cut out the old man talk,” Quentin apologizes. “And I really don’t want any. I’d rather watch you enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

The flirtation isn’t there in his voice this time, but Peter is just as affected if not more so, his face still bright red. As the two of them smile at each other, their waiter returns giving each of them their order.

Peter’s cheesecake sits atop a decorative drizzle of dark red raspberry sauce. More of the topping oozes down the side of the dessert while a single raspberry and mint leaf serve as the final garnish. Peter’s tongue briefly darts over his lips, sending another jolt to Quentin’s cock beneath the table.

Quentin knows from experience watching people eat usually doesn’t compare to the fantasy, but he’ll be able to edit the event into a more palatable montage after the fact. He’s too absorbed in studying Peter to bother with the cappuccino. Trying to focus on both will just lead to appreciating neither, so jailbait before the coffee is the decided order of things.

Peter takes his first bite with a nonchalance that suggests he doesn’t notice Quentin’s eyes on him. His lips are narrow but still pretty-- very pink. God, is the kid good with his tongue. As he swallows the first bite, Quentin eyes the bulge and flex of his throat.

Quentin opts to take a sip of his coffee to try and look natural. Peter looks over at him as he does so, before taking another bite.

Quentin rests a hand on his own thigh. He’d honestly love to just jerk off right here, bring himself to the edge as Peter unsuspectingly performs for him. Well, maybe the kid has some idea by now.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter says softly. “Do you….”

Peter tilts his head and his lips are parted. Quentin can see his tongue. That’s a keeper. Peter’s eyes are wide. He looks perfect to deepthroat.

“Is this a thing where you like taking care of me?” Peter asks. “People used to say stuff like that online…. About Mr. Stark and I…. I know that’s a thing some older guys like.”

“Peter,” Quentin murmurs, taken slightly aback. He hasn’t been giving the kid enough credit. He is a genius after all.

“I know it’s kind of taboo, but you tucked me in, and gave me that bath, and are taking me out now…. I don’t mind if you’re into that...”

Peter takes another bite of his cheesecake, but this time pulls the fork from his mouth slowly, his eyes fluttering shut in appreciation. He makes a low humming noise as the fork finally glides from his mouth, and Quentin swears the kid grinds in place a little. He's not fully sure though. Which is odd.

Quentin’s head is swimming. His heart rate is accelerated, and he can tell his mouth is literally watering. Everything about Peter’s body language says 'fuck me, now'. He’s supposed to be Mysterio though, supposed to think he shouldn’t be just splitting that virgin ass open right here and now.

“You’re half my age, Peter. I shouldn’t have let this get so far,” Quentin lies. He’s being inconsistent, getting too turned on to think things through right. He needs to seal the deal before Peter gets suspicious.

“I’m sorry I called you a snack before. It was unprofessional of me.”

Peter laughs.

“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound saying that?”

A text flashes on EDITH’s HUD. It’s from Guterman. It reads like a group written text though.

_ There are a few more supplies for Parker than you asked. Make this worth it. Get a blood sample. Keep your head on your shoulders. No liabilities. _

The team is monitoring him, of course. He doesn’t like them questioning him. He needs to regain control of himself and the group. Maybe if he really goes hard on the kid, he can get it out of his system.

Quentin hangs his head.

“I do like spoiling you. Maybe this is kinda creepy, but I bought some chocolates for you. I figured you could eat a lot with the whole spider thing,” Quentin says. He looks back at Peter.

“Mr. Beck, you’re not creepy. I think it’s sweet you got me something,” Peter insists. He looks down at his plate then back to Quentin playfully.

“I think my arms are too sore from all that Night Monkey action, but I’m still hungry,” Peter complains. “If only someone could help me finish.”

It’s the type of intentionally bad premise Quentin would expect out of a cheap porno, but on Peter it’s cute. Quentin reaches across the table slowly. He holds Peter’s fork.

“Are you sure this is ok, kid?”

Peter nods.

“Just one more bite. It’s alright,” he hums, before giving Quentin a wink.

“Please, Mr. Beck?”

Peter’s voice is dripping with neediness-- like he’s asking for something dirty and rough, something Quentin is happy to give him. Quentin looks around briefly. No one is watching as Peter’s tongue hangs from his slack mouth, nor as Quentin takes a large slice to include the raspberry garnish and guides it into Peter’s mouth.

Peter practically moans when he takes the slice in his mouth. Quentin can’t believe things are going this perfectly. All it took was sucking some cock and Peter is eager to give himself up.

“Why uh…. Why don’t you come up to my hotel room for those chocolates, Peter?” Quentin asks, trying to inject his voice with nervousness. He can’t play Mysterio much longer. Maybe his spider sex pheromone theory is correct. He was so grounded in the shower and now all he can think about is Peter split open and begging.

Peter nods.

“We don’t have to do anything else,” Peter reminds him. “We can take it slow.”

Quentin calls for the check. Nothing about this has been slow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. T_T I needed to get it done!!!!


	5. The Ice is Melting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Quentin finally make it to the hotel room. Sorry for the cliffhanger. Things start to get weird from here out.

Peter treats Quentin’s hotel room with similar wide-eyed awe he’d shown in the lobby. Quentin’s room is sparse, most of his stuff is back with the team. The kid immediately rushes to the bed and playfully flops onto it.

“Is this a king-size?” Peter blurts out. It very much is a king-size, the bed dwarfing Peter by accident. Quentin takes a moment to peek into the minifridge, almost slamming it shut when he notes the entirely undisguised chloroform and bloodwork kit. He’s never even taken blood before. Yes, he’s getting a little over-invested, but leaving an entirely obvious creepy blood taking kit in his fridge next to the chocolate is a little forward.

Peter is thankfully occupied with bouncing up and down on Quentin’s side of the bed. It seems like fidgeting and curiosity as opposed to seduction. It’s not unseductive though, considering how badly Quentin’s been wanting the kid.

Quentin holds up the box of chocolates.

“They might be a little cold from the fridge,” he explains. Peter switches to sitting up.

“I don’t mind. Besides, it’ll be less messy like that,” Peter counters, flicking his hair from his face.

Quentin sits down next to Peter. When he rests a hand on Peter’s leg the kid freezes up.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter murmurs. Quentin squeezes. The kid’s thighs are tight with muscle.

“Why don’t you hop in my lap, and you can have some more dessert?”

Peter smiles slowly, eyeing Quentin’s lap. He stares in silence at Quentin’s bulge a moment before beginning to straddle his hips. Peter settles into his lap. Quentin’s eyes narrow. The air between them is heavy. Like he’s in a fog.

Quentin feels like he’s moving slowly. He rationally recognizes he’s moving at a normal pace, but his brain is a few steps behind his body. Peter is warm and intoxicatingly close.

When Quentin holds up a chocolate bonbon, he can feel it melting between his pointer finger and thumb. Eventually, his fingerprints will end up across Peter’s body, dark smudges splattered irreverently like the Pollock painting he saw the last time he visited the Met.

Quentin likes art. As Peter takes the sweet into his mouth, Quentin remembers the statue of Lilith that perches above the stairs leading to modern art. Crouched upside down against the wall and cast in bronze, her glass eyes struck Quentin’s core in a way nothing had for some time. Even though her body was abstracted and imperfect, her eyes made her human. He spent a long time staring into her pale eyes.

Peter sucks Quentin’s finger clean. When Quentin reaches for a nipple through his clothes, the boy yelps.

“I’m really sensitive there… All over really,” Peter explains.

With his left hand teasing at Peter’s chest, Quentin feeds Peter another chocolate. The candies slowly disappear, each melting in Peter’s warm wet mouth. Quentin aches as he watches each one, Peter’s eyes fluttering in pleasure.

“You love to swallow for daddy don’t you?” he hums, forgetting himself.

Peter nods weakly, arching into Quentin’s touch.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter murmurs, looking shaken. The boy bites his lip as Quentin now pinches both of his nipples.

Suddenly Peter is grinding harder against his thigh and moaning. It takes so little to undo the boy.

“If you keep going…”

Quentin fears the boy will ask him to stop. Because he won’t anymore. If Peter says no, he’ll go on with it anyway. He’s tired of waiting.

Peter lets out another whimper and arches his hips as Quentin continues to roll his erect nipples between his fingers.

“I want you, Mr. Beck,” Peter blurts out. “You make me feel… normal.”

Peter slumps against Quentin’s chest, a wet spot growing across his groin.

“Oh Peter,” Quentin sighs, wrapping his arms around the boy. “You make me feel normal too.”

There’s no more time to waste. Quentin reaches for the back of Peter’s shirt.

“What are you…?” Peter questions.

“I want you, too,” Quentin insists.

Despite the nervous look on his face, Peter doesn’t stop him from removing his shirt. Peter doesn’t stop Quentin at all, the older man methodically stripping each of them down. They are naked together, Peter with his lean youthful build and Quentin thicker and ursine. Peter is erect again, both delighting and surprising Quentin. Peter doesn’t question the choice to leave EDITH on.

“Get on your hands and knees. It’ll be easier that way,” Quentin suggests. Whether or not it’s easier, is irrelevant. He wants Peter bent over and begging for it, his face buried into the pillows and hips arched up high for Quentin. Also if he has to use the rag, better to have the boy falling away.

“I hope the daddy thing wasn’t weird,” Quentin offers, doing his best to sound awkward.

“As I said, I don’t mind if you’re into it. It’s kinda hot,” Peter replies. The boy is knelt in bed, waiting for Quentin to take his virginity, innocence offering itself up to be devoured.

It’d be fun to go in raw, but it’ll also make Quentin’s time more fun if the kid is dripping and slick for him. He’s certainly not going to bother stretching him though.

Peter watches reverently, as Quentin lubes himself up, slowly fisting his length and occasionally flicking the tip of his cock.

“It’s something I used to….” Quentin trails off, unsure how to finish the lie. “Get ready, kid.”

“I knew it… I can do it. I promise.”

Quentin begins to press himself against Peter’s entrance, forcing his way past the boy’s natural resistance. He’s even tighter than Quentin had imagined. It’ll almost be difficult not to climax right away with how badly he’s wanted this. Quentin takes a step back mentally. There’s plenty of time to enjoy this. Peter is his, he doesn’t have to finish right away. Peter will let him take all the time he wants.

The two of them fall into a pattern as the boy slowly stretches to accommodate Quentin’s girth. Peter’s face is pressed into the pillows, just as Quentin had hoped, and he uses a firm hand to press the boy’s back lower.

“You look prettier that way,” Quentin explains. “Daddy likes to see you arched.”

“Yes, daddy,” Peter answers. Quentin just might have to finish a little earlier than he planned.

“Call me that again, Parker,” Quentin orders, the tone of command entering his voice. “Talk dirty for me.”

The boy likely needs the command to take more initiative with it. He is a virgin after all.

“Fuck me harder, daddy. I wanna make you feel good,” Peter continues. His face is flushed with pleasure as he babbles, his cock leaking onto the mattress beneath them.

The heat of orgasm fills Quentin’s groin. Jolts of pleasure move through him, strong enough that his vision goes dark a moment. Peter is perfect.

As Quentin prepares to slide out of Peter, he instead wraps a hand around to the boy’s hard-on and jerks him slowly.

“Once more for daddy?” he asks. Peter’s hips buck as Quentin masturbates him. He’ll have to try the chloroform soon.

“I can feel it in me,” Peter whines. Quentin is skeptical Peter can feel his seed there, but it’s not the time to argue. He might be referring to his, now flaccid, member.

Peter finishes a second time, Quentin holding him close.

As his body slows to a halt, Peter lets out a long sigh.

“You know, I like you for you, right?” Peter asks, beginning to turn back towards Quentin. “You didn’t have to leave EDITH on for me.”

He should stop underplaying how smart the kid is. It might bite him in the ass someday. Peter even sounds a little upset.

“I’m sorry. I know I should trust you to make your own decisions,” Quentin apologizes.

Peter waves his hand in exasperation as the two of them settle more comfortably.

“Especially after calling you… that… I don’t want you to think you’re a band-aid for my daddy issues,” Peter continues.

Peter really is precious. It’s a shame they can’t stay like this longer but he needs to act before he loses control of the situation.

“Oh, Peter,” Quentin answers. “I promise you’re not a substitute either.”

“Now close your eyes, I’ve got one more surprise for you,” Quentin instructs.

It’s certainly not what Peter expects from his mentor turned lover. If the chemicals don’t work he’s going to have a lot of explaining.

When he presses the rag to Peter’s face however, the boy goes out. Quentin hasn’t taken blood before, but EDITH might be able to help him.

“EDITH, get me instructions for drawing blood.”

Part of Quentin wants to fuck Peter again afterward. Maybe he will. Maybe he’ll watch the boy’s loose and helpless body shake as Quentin has his way with him again and again. Maybe he’ll turn Peter into his sex doll right here in the hotel.

Focus. He needs to focus.

Quentin follows the instructions as EDITH gives them, carefully finding the vein on Peter’s left arm. As the syringe fills with blood, Quentin pauses for a moment. This isn’t how he expected things to go when he came down Peter’s throat in the bathroom. Maybe things were getting dangerous.

“EDITH, start compiling footage from today and add it to the Protocol Engaged Training Executable Review. And send the team a text I have the samples.”

Quentin cleans up as quickly as he can. He can get Peter’s clothes laundered for him as well. In the meantime, he might as well return to bed with him.

Quentin arranges Peter in bed so that the boy is turned on his side. He takes to stroking Peter’s hair. It’s soft and moves through his fingers with surprisingly few knots. If only they could stay like this longer. It’s a shame he didn’t meet Peter earlier, perhaps back at Stark Industries. They could have a different story, a longer one. Peter is still his though, Peter is here with him at this moment, and nothing can change that. In the meantime, he’ll watch Peter till he wakes up, studying every inch of him. Peter is his now. He’ll always be Peter’s first.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sculpture I referenced:  
https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/486711


	6. I Can Feel What’s Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn for the worse.

The next twelve hours are a mess. Quentin escorts Peter back to his hotel after a nap, and the two of them exchange numbers as if Quentin didn’t know his already through EDITH. He can see via EDITH that Peter puts a green heart and crystal ball emoji next to his name. Quentin’s heart pounds at how cute it is. On the other hand, Peter’s little friend, MJ, catches up with him and the game he and Peter are playing becomes very different. Peter watches the malfunctioning drone with a look of terror. Act two is ending. Peter knows.

The team tells him not to worry— they can fix this—it’s even an easy fix. Maybe they’re right. With Peter’s blood sample he has an extra ace up his sleeve.

The first time he tries the dose, his nerves are on fire. Quentin can see further. Do more. He’s stronger than he’s ever been. He rubs one out three times in a row with little trouble, EDITH projecting images of Peter on all fours and begging to be fucked.

Things might be alright. Peter is rushing to Nick Fury and Quentin can intercept him. With the reagent, albeit a rushed engineering job, he can become strong enough to be Peter’s equal for a short time. With Peter’s strength and their hologram technology, Peter doesn’t stand a chance. Not to mention Quentin knows exactly what makes the boy tick now.

According to his surveillance on Peter, he hasn’t even told Ned what’s happened between them. Through Peter’s phone, they got audio of the boy in absolute hysterics. Poor thing probably feels like he gave his virginity to a monster. Quentin isn’t a monster though. Determined, yes— but not a monster. Peter might need some re-education on that front.

Peter might need some re-education on several fronts.

Tracking Peter is easy. With EDITH’s access to the modern world’s surveillance systems, following him to Berlin is hardly a problem. The holograms do the rest.

Quentin pulls up to the train station, Nick Fury’s body overlaid with his. He can hear the conversations in every crowd. His head hurts. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the next dose yet, but he needs it to fight Peter. Once they break him in, he won’t need it anymore.

Peter approaches Quentin with a start. He looks even better in the tactical suit with Quentin’s heightened senses. He can see the movement of every muscle as Peter walks towards him.

They drive in uncomfortable silence, Peter intimidated by Fury. Quentin has to hold back a laugh as Peter tears the seat belt out of the car in his nervousness. 

The warehouse they’ve prepared is perfect. The drones are in place and the hologram looks fantastic. Since acquiring EDITH the type of overlays they can create has skyrocketed in quality, and their work was already cutting edge.

Peter bristles as they approach what appears to be a meeting room. In reality, the two of them have headed up several flights of stairs and are walking along a narrow passage, a good three flight fall on either side of them.

“Something’s wrong,” he murmurs. “I think he’s here….”

“What are you talking about, Parker?” Quentin snaps.

Peter steps back, head pivoting from side to side.

“Mr. Beck,” Peter says, voice dropping. “He’s not what he seems. He’s got illusion tech…”

Peter is turning frantic now, looking around.

“You don’t say,” Quentin hums. Quentin snaps and the building around them begins to dissolve. Green fog rolls in and darkness surrounds them. Peter enters a defensive stance, backing slightly away.

Three drones surround Peter, their laser sights set on him.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Peter,” Quentin starts. “I know how you must feel about me, but it’s not like that…”

“You lied to me,” Peter spits. His breathing is heavy. “You lied to me and you used me.”

Peter furrows his brow.

“I’m not going to let you hurt me again,” he adds, his voice sharp with defiance.

Quentin laughs and the sound reverberates around them.

“You wanted it, Parker,” Quentin sneers. A rubber round hits Peter’s chest knocking him off balance.

With his newfound abilities, Quentin follows him down. He lands comfortably when the old fall would have wrecked his body. Peter is squirming beneath him.

“We could work together, Peter. I really care for you, and having Spider-Man on Mysterio’s team would really boost his credibility,” Quentin offers. “I’d take care of you.”

“You lie to people. That’s all you do,” Peter returns. Peter shoves at Quentin and the two of them fall into a grapple.

Three Mysterios now fight Peter. Peter twists to avoid blows from one of the fakes, and instead, Quentin grabs him, turning the boy face down and pinning him in place. The combination of his heightened senses and the adrenaline of the fight has Quentin’s cock hard against Peter’s thigh. How Peter isn’t constantly horny to the point of dysfunction baffles Quentin.

“I love you, Peter,” Quentin bluffs. It’s not untrue, but he loves the idea of possessing Peter. He’s smart enough to know that isn’t real love, but maybe that’s the closest he can come.

“I hate you,” Peter cries. He’s sobbing. The kid doesn’t mean it either. He wants to love Quentin, he wants to belong to him. Peter pushes back against the pin. Being this strong is a new kind of high for Quentin. This must be what Tony felt in the suit. It makes his arrogance make sense. This is why all those caped crusaders are the way they are.

Why won’t Peter just say yes?

“Come on, kid. Think of all the fun we had,” Quentin replies, repositioning so he can stroke Peter’s hair. He turns the gesture into a hard tug, pulling his head up.

Peter’s face is now at the boots of another clone of him, this one styled to look like his version of the costume he’d worn in the bar.

“I know what the truth is. It’s your time to swallow it,” Quentin snickers. “We both know how much you like to swallow.”

Peter knocks his head backward, the blow taking Quentin by surprise. His blood boils. That’s how he had to play it then, was it?

“You want me to be a monster, Peter? I can be a monster if that’s what you want.”

The kid is maybe just playing hard to get. He can’t admit he likes the dark side of Quentin, that he likes being used.

“Remember this?” Quentin asks. The slapping sound of their fucking now plays over countless drones. The two of them each return to their feet. It’s round two of the fight, and it’s time for the real show.

“I wonder what Tony would think of you being such a slut.”

Tony’s grave grows tall and towers over the two of them. As Peter slings webs at him, images of the other Avenger’s graves pop-up appearing to block them. Quentin side steps the shots, his body moving faster than he’s aware of.

“Don’t talk about Tony like you know anything about him,” Peter snaps.

Quentin scoffs. Like Peter knows Tony stark better than him? Like Peter has any idea what cruelty and apathy the man is capable of.

“Tony Stark killed millions of people,” Quentin rages, moving back in towards Peter. “Tony Stark was a murderer and a bully. Tony Stark made me have to hurt you like this because no one would have ever listened to the old Quentin Beck.”

Peter seems as if something has clicked into place.

“Tony changed. You’re just a creep who uses people,” Peter argues, continuing to fire webs. Peter braces himself for Quentin’s first attack.

He’s not getting it is he? Quentin’s head hurts and something difficult to fight washes over him. His body is moving three steps faster than him, and his mind can only hold onto how angry he is. Quentin allows his reflexes to take over. The injection has made him stronger. 

He doesn’t quite process what’s happening next.

He can hear Peter begging, and that has him close to coming in his costume. He can feel the contact between their bodies. The violence between them is just as intimate as the hotel room. Maybe even more intimate. Peter’s neck is strong The kid’s body gives everything to maintain itself. Quentin’s sure to have a few bruises. His normal body would be shattered by now. Everything stops when Peter’s neck snaps.

Peter Parker is suddenly limp in Quentin’s arms. The kid has a healing factor though. This can’t be enough to take him out of commission, can it?

The team comes into communication over EDITH. Everyone’s congratulating him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally imagined this chapter being very different, but I like how it came out. Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm feeling motivated though and will have the last chapter soon, if not today.


	7. Epilogue: A Nameless Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever happened to Peter Parker?

Quentin finishes up the meeting with a bullet to William's head. It's very satisfying. He needed to remind them all who was in control of the situation. Things with Parker got out of hand. He can admit that. It's fixed now though. Everything is under Quentin's control-- Peter and the team alike.

Back in his hotel room, Peter lays on his stomach doing homework in bed. The start of the school year is upon them after all. He's dressed in his "find x" shirt and some Spider-Man knockoff pajamas they bought for the irony.

"Hey, sweetheart," Quentin greets. Quentin considers peeling himself out of the motion capture suit and into one of the hotel robes but settles for just putting it on over the suit.

Peter looks up from his textbooks and Stark Industries laptop with a grin. No one would suspect Quentin pent last night railing the poor kid until he cried.

"Welcome back, Mr. Beck!"

Quentin sits down next to him. He's gotten almost everything he could want, but perhaps it's unfair what he had to do for it. He runs a hand through Peter's hair. He can feel the weight of his body on the bed, and his hair is warm as it should be. Quentin frowns a moment, a sudden melancholy giving him pause.

"What's wrong, Quentin?" Peter asks, tilting his head.

Something doesn't feel right. He can feel it in his gut. Even with Fury fooled, even with Peter Parker laying in his bed, even with the world at his fingertips, there's one piece missing.

"EDITH, something's wrong," Quentin declares. His brow feels heavy and there's a lump in his throat. Quentin lays a kiss on Peter's forehead. The skin texture is impressive, but never quite enough for him.

"Take it down," Quentin orders. The illusion fades away. The doll is the best he could get with Stark's money, but there are days he can't fall for the trick he's playing on himself. 

Peter's glass eyes stare blankly ahead, though the realism of them is uncanny. Quentin turns the silicone doll around, so its head is on one of the pillows and slides next to it in bed.

Things didn't go smoothly when he tried with living boys. He may have gotten a bit out of control there-- too many missing boys with broken necks.

Despite the emptiness in his chest, he can tell he's getting hard being this close to Peter. Something about the loneliness of it is a turn on as well. Quentin rubs slowly against Peter's thigh, the ache in his chest fading as the heat in his groin grows.

EDITH replies in Peter's voice.

"Would you like me to resume the holograms?" she asks.

Quentin bites his lip, debating what he wants.

"Try running things based off last night's training," he answers. Last night was one of the good ones. He felt close to Peter-- like he was holding something powerful yet delicate. He just wants that sense of control over Peter again.

"I want you, Mr. Beck," Peter moans, hips arching.

Quentin gives Peter a close-mouthed kiss.

"I want you too, Peter," Beck answers. "I want it all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! I can't believe it's done. If you've been on since the beginning I'd love to hear your thoughts. I know the ending is kinda wild but I planned it from the beginning so I hope it feels earned.


	8. A Chain Reaction: Other Fan Works and Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for me to link to some videos and fan arts I've commissioned or traded with people for about the series. It'll update/be edited as I make more arrangements with people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'll add some thoughts about the series as they come to me but for now here are some links to art, mood boards, and video based on the series. I should have some more stuff to add soon! -- 5/28/2020

**Overall Series**

[Chameleon World](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MaoO6T61GkE), edited by [ValentineRunaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valentinerunaway/works) (video) (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MaoO6T61GkE)

[Selling Out](https://youtu.be/5MHY5fjXv40), edited by [MsSasoDei](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCnO2Mm3u9QCi7FJwfUZ2BJg)

**Chapter 1 **

**Chapter 2 **

[Illustration by Artheosis](https://twitter.com/artotheosis/status/1221137579954900993?s=20)

**Chapter 3**

[Illustration by KEP](https://twitter.com/leechlordbolton/status/1235881075257282565?s=20)

[Chapter 3 release mood board](https://66.media.tumblr.com/99678ddf0b6ed3fcad0dfc3a1a5e4a66/12114aa621fb79ff-aa/s1280x1920/648f4420418fbd0dd7ccc6e5d31048f0111f5339.png)

**Chapter 4 **

**Chapter** **5 **

**Chapter 6**

**Chapter 7**

[Illustration by Dabi’s Kitty](https://mobile.twitter.com/Dabis_Kitty/status/1268191433120534528)


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